“You’ve already helped, actually. Thanks.”
“But I didn’t do anything.”
I wanted to get up from my desk, push the door shut all the way, and tear open her blouse, the little iridescent buttons popping off, one by one. I’d lay her across my desk and squeeze her ass a few times before—
No.
Not just yet.
“I appreciate it anyway,” I said. And then the phone started to ring, and Daisy excused herself to go answer it.
At the end of the day, I could tell that Daisy was lingering, thinking that we might hang out, but after I went and saw Pete, I wanted to have some alone time, and if I wasn’t going to suggest we get together, I knew she wouldn’t say anything.
“All right,” she said, slinging her handbag over her shoulder. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“Bye, Daisy,” Jonathan said. “Here, let me walk you out.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” she said, but he followed her down the hallway like a loyal dog. When he returned, he was looking at me with hopeful eyes. Christ, he was such a fucking Boy Scout. He certainly wouldn’t have gotten a girl pregnant. He’d never find himself in a situation like this. I felt a flare of anger for him, for the fact that his life had always been so fucking easy, yet he didn’t even have the slightest clue.
“So . . .” he said. “How’s it going with Daisy? Did you have a chance to talk to her?”
“Yeah,” I said. I’d draw this out for a little while.
Those hopeful eyes brightened. “You did? What’d she say? How’d it go?”
“It went all right.”
“It did? What did you say to her? Really, more importantly, what did she say to you?”
A whole lot of shit you don’t want to know. I took a deep breath.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, man,” I said (or more accurately, deflate your dick), “but I just don’t think she’s ready for that sort of thing right now.”
Jonathan pressed his lips together and nodded slowly. “That makes sense,” he said, frowning. “That’s kind of the impression I was getting from her. I guess I really should learn to trust my instincts more.”
“Absolutely. Don’t take it too hard, man. There’s plenty of other girls out there, you know.”
“I know.” He looked disappointed. “It’s just . . . I really liked her.”
“That’s understandable,” I said, nodding sympathetically, “she’s a good person. But then again, so are you. So you’re bound to find someone that will be a g
ood match. I just know it.”
And the thing was, he would. He might not realize it at the moment, but I sure as hell did. Things just always worked out for Jonathan, one way or another.
Not that you’d know it with that forlorn expression he had on his face at the moment, like he’d just walked in on me drowning his favorite puppy or something. Come on, dude, I thought. You are worse than a lovestruck teenage girl! I went over and clapped him on the shoulder, gave him my best expression of brotherly solidarity.
“Did she seem really . . . traumatized?” he asked.
“What—about the idea of you be interested in her?”
“No! You didn’t tell her that, did you?”
“I didn’t.”
“No, I meant by the whole thing with her stalker. Do you think that has made it so she’s never going to want to get involved with anyone ever again?”
“It’s hard to say. I did find out one thing, though . . .” I paused, letting the tension draw out. Jonathan looked at me hopefully. “She’s a virgin. Which doesn’t really coalesce with the notion that she's a freak in bed, now, does it? Remember how you told me that?”